


Caught in the Storm

by colorofmymind



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 15:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5462081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorofmymind/pseuds/colorofmymind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry gets snowed in at the CCPD precinct, but all he can think of is how much he wishes he was with Oliver that cold winter’s night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught in the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Olivarry Holiday Weekend! This is a little late but I promise I'll be responding to the prompts faster than I did with this one. If you don't know about the Olivarry Holiday Weekend Event I suggest you check tumblr if you want a slew of holiday-themed Olivarry stories (because who wouldn't enjoy that?).   
> I hope you enjoy and I'd like to wish everyone happy holidays!

Snowflakes flurried daintily by, the air bearing a biting edge to any street-wandering passerby. Strong wind currents haphazardly shuffled the chaotic environment around, ushering most Central City citizens into their homes or alternatively the closest place with a door and a heater. To a certain CSI holed up the crime lab above the police precinct, thoughts of the harrowing blizzard passing by the glass panel windows were the least of his concerns. His mind was more occupied with an anxiety to catch up on caseloads as his alternative line of work had demanded his presence so much so that he had spent more time saving people from burning houses and apartments than finding out the culprit behind the fires. In most cases, they found that loose circuitry and people being a little dial-happy with their thermostats were the causes.

So Barry had stumbled into work that afternoon (of course Cisco and Caitlin had needed him to run some important tests that morning), received the typical rant from Captain Singh, and scurried up into the comfort of his work-space, running a hand over his face at the immediate sight of the caseload pile on his desk. Of course, he could speed-read through the reports but he couldn't make the computer programs he used any faster without the aid of Felicity whom he knew was more than up to her high-heeled shoes in corporate work. So the forensic scientist had stayed the long evening hours to dedicate to his first and perhaps favorite line of work, extensively reading and analyzing each case as the snow continued to pile outside and more importantly right outside the precinct.

Having finished for the most part, he looked outside the windows not too long after the winds settled. From his perspective, it seemed like any ordinary, chilly winter night that he’d have to run through to reach his partner’s apartment a 600 miles’ distance away. In all fairness the speedster had told earlier that day Oliver he’d most likely be late which gave him anywhere from ten minutes to two hours leeway. He descended down the steps two at a time, slinging his satchel from his hand to around his shoulder.

Only a couple footsteps could be taken from beyond the staircase, however, as the CSI nearly ran into the disorganized queue of police officers crowding the doors and windows of the precinct in almost one giant mass. Disappointed cries and frustrated groans made up most of the reactions to whatever everyone there was looking at, so Barry pushed his way through as well, muttering genuine apologies and _‘I’m so sorry’_ s to practically every person surrounding him.

Once he had made his way to one of the windows, he understood his co-workers’ dissatisfaction. Somehow a snow tower had settled before the building to a height that irritatingly prevented the doors from opening the precinct and its workers to fully snow-covered streets of Central City. In other words, any officers or detectives starting an early shift would not be coming into work the next morning while everyone there was stuck. Knowing when any of them could leave was a matter of how efficient the snow plows were within the next hours.

With a slight despondency in his step Barry trekked back up the staircase to the privacy of his lab, which, he dimly realized, might have to additionally serve as a bedroom tonight. A swivel, cushioned chair would have to make due for a bed even though he’d been more enjoying the idea of cuddling with Oliver on a real bed, or even a couch would be more appealing at this point. The archer’s chest would have been enough of a pillow on its own, he noted sourly while settling back down in his chair.

Barry first sent a message to Joe letting him know the current situation and that he’d let the man know of any updates. He barely had sent the message when Oliver’s caller id blared on his phone, the loud vibrating only seeming to foreshadow the older man’s probably worn patience. 

_“I just thought I’d let you know I skipped the wine and went straight to the tequila since dinner seems to have been called off,”_ Oliver started straightaway and Barry knew the expression on his partner’s face from even 600 miles away. More so, he was able to interpret the severity of the older man’s anger. On the range of Oliver Queen’s wide spectrum of emotions, his tone indicated slight irritation. The speedster could have been dealt with worse. _“You’re late Barry,”_ Oliver continued before he could respond, _“And you are **still** breaking your last record which is almost impressive at this point.”_

The CSI squeezed his eyes shut and ran his fingers though the short strands of his hair while waiting for the end of his boyfriend’s lecture. _“I wouldn't be this late if I didn't have a good reason, Ollie.”_ The man sighed softly at the use of the nickname, which Barry took to mean a good sign. _“I’m stuck at the precinct. A freak blizzard hit and no one can get out of the building until the snow’s been cleared.”_

_“Are you okay? Does the building still have electricity?”_ Oliver immediately jumped into asking questions about his safety in that all concerned voice, to which Barry rolled his eyes in fond exasperation.

_“I’m fine; we’re all fine,”_ he quickly reassured. _“The Green Arrow doesn't need to make an appearance in Central City anytime soon.”_

_“What about a visit from Oliver Queen?”_ his partner suggested playfully, the rueful smile beginning on his lips Barry just knew was there.

_“I wouldn't be opposed,”_ he teased but quickly added, _“But seriously I would wait on that because I don’t know if the trains are even operational right now and—”_

Oliver swiftly cut across him. _“We’ll just move our plans from tonight to tomorrow.”_

Barry paused to consider the idea. _“Okay, that’s great! I’ll see you tomorrow.”_ He waited until Oliver said goodbye as well to hang up, relaxing against the backrest of his chair afterward and slipping his eyes shut. All he would need to do is wait for the roads and the sidewalks to be clear enough to start the maybe fifteen minute run. As tiredness gave into sleep, the Flash mapped the exact route he’d run to Star City in his dreams.

***

Oliver Queen smoothly maneuvered around sleep-deprived officers and detectives on his way into the police precinct. While most were heading on their way out, Oliver suspected, judging by the forensic scientist’s absence on the first floor, that Barry had perhaps missed the memo that the snow plows had come and gone and most people who had been trapped overnight could leave the premises.

With two cups of coffee in hand, he carefully made his way up the steps to the younger man’s lab. His suspicions were correct it seemed as Oliver was met with the adorable sight of his partner half collapsed on his desk, resting his head on folded arms. Smirking as he made his way over to said sleeping partner, he set Barry’s usual drink on the table: a Flash latte. While amusing in its title to him, Oliver had never tried the Jitters’ specialty drink and even now sipped at the black coffee he had ordered for himself this morning.

The scent of coffee seemed to eventually rouse the speedster. He lifted his head from off his arms, eyelids half-lidded and hair sleep-tousled. The sight was almost too endearing and Oliver had to control his expression as to not let the other man show the full extent of his fondness.

“Ollie?” Barry asked, drowsiness evident in the slight drawl of his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Waking you up,” Oliver answered casually. “I thought coffee might help since you had such a long night.”

Barry chuckled to himself, shaking his head at Oliver for whatever reason. Barry usually found his concern to be amusing, something which the archer had learned not to be offended by anymore.

“You know, this is great,” Barry said as he sipped at the latte. “But I think I know something that would really wake me up.” The younger man spoke the words with what was a tried casualness but ended up sounding entirely flirty, despite Barry’s attempts to be vague.

Oliver smirked once before pulling Barry up from the chair and into his arms, kissing the man’s lips just short of being rough until he gently slipped his tongue into his partner’s mouth. Right now he tasted of milk and espresso, but Oliver was more drinking in Barry’s moans than the lingering taste of coffee.

Both of them broke apart for air, each man gazing at the other with extreme warmth and fondness in their eyes, even the stern archer. Oliver wrapped an arm around Barry’s shoulders and they both turned to the windows displaying the slight snow showers that were rapidly accumulating on the ground.

Barry turned to Oliver with a dead seriousness. “Let’s get out of here.”


End file.
